[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/b320BZk.png[/img][/center][indent][indent][indent]Moses paid mind to Mister Violet’s guffaw, wishing he had a bit of the man’s exuberance. Instead, he was huddled inside his coat, steadily nursing the cigarette between his lips. It was the action itself that made him a lot less on edge than he felt he needed to be.

[b][color=ac2100]“Arkham has its fine share of [i]ghoulies[/i], and I’m afraid that Wilde Hall may have the monopoly on that.”[/color][/b] He smirked. [b][color=ac2100]“If not for the lack of me tryin’.”[/color][/b]

At the mention of the carriage, he nodded in agreement. It would be far more suitable to carry on any sort of conversation away from the squelching mud and the dense overhang of trees. If anything, it would be kinder on his senses, as they practically bristled with anxiety. He’d loosened up a bit between Mademoiselle Noir and Mister Violet, but only out of the notion of self-preservation. Moses Reaves wasn’t about to be chatted into an early grave.

[b][color=ac2100]“And I was surprised by Madmoiselle Noir. Didn’t quite think a dame of her caliber to be in these woods.”[/color][/b] To ask Moses to better refine that statement would be like asking an elephant to squeeze through a hoop. Honestly, he wouldn’t know where to begin. Maybe that she was of a finer type but resilient just the same. Reminded him of his Magdalena, if she’d taken to funeral clothes, a French accent, and a need for small talk. So, maybe not at all like her?

Yet, his question was answered. Neither of them were from around here, but they were both curious. Moses had assumed more locals would be at this ball than outsiders, but it wouldn’t be a rum-running business without a bit of [i]running[/i] now would it?

[b][color=ac2100]“Hm. I’ll lead the way, I suppose. I don’t suspect that anyone would take to assaultin' a man of the cloth such as myself.”[/color][/b] Moses, in the beginning, may have been a bit disgruntled at the name chosen for him the invitation. But he was fine to use it as an excuse to convey that in any other setting he wouldn’t be approachable.

Moses pushed forward, his feet easily finding their way around roots and twigs like second nature. He didn’t much care to show the two his back, but they’d had ample time to trap him if they’d planned to. It was also a fair bet to say that at least one of them was an innocent—or, at least, innocent of the crime of attempted murder on his person.[/indent][/indent][/indent]
[@Romero][@Lady Selune]